


Convenient Replacement

by GeniusCactus



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, M/M, onesided Oishi/Eiji, past Tezuka/Fuji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 16:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeniusCactus/pseuds/GeniusCactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Struggling to process their individual heartaches, Fuji and Oishi find unlikely solace in each other’s company</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Darkroom

When Eiji tells him he’s going to confess to his longtime crush, Oishi doesn’t think much of it. Eiji is his doubles partner and best friend in the world. Nothing can change that.

It is only after catching a glimpse of the two of them at Le Chéri, an ice cream parlor he frequents with Eiji, that he begins to feel differently. Eiji presses his lips softly against the shorter brunette’s temple, and she responds by caressing his soft sanguine locks.  Oishi’s stomach churns as an unforgettably radiant grin lights up Eiji’s face.

He naively believed that type of smile was reserved for him.

The following school day, the memory of the ice cream parlor is still etched clearly in Oishi’s mind. A lump forms in his throat, his eyes start to sting, and in somewhat of a daze, he quickly pushes open the nearest available classroom door.

The room is pitch black to the point that Oishi can’t even see his own hand in front of his face. He lets out a sigh of relief that no one will see him in this state, before sinking to his knees and letting out a few involuntary sobs.

Footsteps shuffle through the darkness and Oishi realizes he isn’t alone.

Oishi clambers to his feet, fumbling for the door handle at an attempt to escape, when he hears the click of a light switch. The room is bathed in a dull eerie red light and a familiar figure stands mere inches from Oishi’s face.

“Fuji?!” Oishi gasps. He tries to back away in order to create some distance between the two of them, but only manages to knock his elbow against the door handle.

“This is the school’s darkroom, Oishi. Who did you think you were going to find in here?” Fuji says, haughtily glaring up at the taller boy.

Spotting the pair of scissors in Fuji’s hand and the desk behind him littered with torn up photos of their former captain. Oishi gulps, carefully asking,  “Fuji, what exactly were you doing by yourself in the dark?” more afraid of what Fuji might do to himself than he is for his own safety.

“The dark is…cathartic,” Fuji answers slowly. “Besides, this is called the darkroom for a reason. Light, especially blue light, ruins undeveloped photographs. That’s why the school installed this red safelight.”

_Safelight? So, I’m not stuck in a perpetual horror movie? Thank goodness._

Fiddling with a fragment of one of his photos Fuji continues, “Love is the cruelest of life’s games. It takes and takes and takes, and just when you think you don’t have anything else to give, it squeezes some more out of you. Then, it gets on a plane and leaves, not even giving you a proper goodbye. Just leaves.”

The person Fuji is talking about is no mystery to Oishi. “He cared about you.”

“He tolerated me. It’s not the same,” Fuji replies, proceeding to further cut up the photo he’s holding into tiny unrecognizable slivers. They gently drift to the floor like fresh spring cherry blossoms.

“Fuji!” Oishi says, quickly extending his hand over Fuji’s in a desperate attempt to stop the mad photo destroyer.

“It’s okay. I don’t need these anymore,” Fuji smiles, looking up at Oishi with hollow sunken eyes.

Oishi cringes. This isn’t Seigaku’s fearless number 2. This is somebody else.

The school bell rings signaling their time is up.

“If you ever need to…talk…I’m always in the darkroom during lunch,” Fuji murmurs, sweeping all of the photo scraps into the garbage and turning off the safelight.  Oishi thinks maybe the person who needs to _talk_ is Fuji, but he doesn’t dare voice it out loud.

 

* * *

 

Oishi doesn’t know what exactly compels him to return. Maybe he’s worried about Fuji’s state of being, or perhaps he’s just looking for an escape from his doubles partner. Either way, he finds himself back in the darkroom, immersed in its subdued scarlet light.

With his back facing the door, Fuji is engrossed in looking at his negatives through an enlarger and seems unaware of Oishi’s arrival. A stack of neatly taped together photographs rest near Fuji’s elbow, the same photos he was so furiously trying to ruin the day before. How many hours must that have taken him to piece together?

“Fuji, it’s Oishi again,” he says, alerting the other of his presence.

Fuji turns around to meet Oishi’s gaze, and Oishi immediately notices something is off. Fuji’s wearing his typical smile, but his eyes are puffed up like he’s had the allergy attack of the century. That, or he’s been crying.

“I added too much chili powder to my lunch. Nothing to worry about.” Fuji gives a small, obviously fake laugh. The laugh sounds so fake in fact that Oishi is afraid Fuji might tear up again right there.

Oishi wants to tell Fuji that he doesn’t have to lie, and that he of all people won’t judge Fuji for having emotions. But, it occurs to him how hypocritical those types of words would be coming from him, a person who at this very moment is working so hard to conceal his most intimate feelings from the one he trusts most. So, he simply puts a hand of condolence on Fuji’s shoulder, handing him his pocket-handkerchief.

Fuji accepts the handkerchief, wordlessly wiping the dampness under his eyes. With Oishi’s hand still on his shoulder, Fuji slips an arm around Oishi’s waist, drawing him close. A few breaths of silence pass as they stand in this kind of half waltz pose.

Mouth hovering over Oishi’s ear he abruptly whispers, “My older sister says falling in love with someone new is one way to get over someone old. Want to try it out? ” His voice is toneless, devoid of the typical romantic undertones one would expect from that type of request.

“Fuji, what do you—“ Oishi’s words are cut off as Fuji tugs down on his shirt collar, pulling him into a deep kiss.

It’s Oishi’s first kiss, and something that until recently he dreamed of sharing with Eiji. Fuji’s lips are warm, yet there’s something peculiarly cool and passionless about him.  It doesn’t feel like Fuji is truly ‘there’ with Oishi so to speak. Oishi is merely a stand in for the tall, stoic man living overseas. Ultimately, Oishi feels his own mind begin to wander, imagining Eiji kissing him back like in his dreams. He can almost picture Eiji there, flashing him that unforgettable grin and getting ready to say:

_I’m sorry Oishi! I really really do love you!_

Feeling the hot tingling sensation of wasabi dance upon his lips, Oishi jolts back into reality. Breaking off the kiss, he ruefully remembers it’s Fuji standing in front of him. Of course it is, Eiji would have insisted on brushing his teeth at least twice before any kissing could take place. Eiji also has a stupid girlfriend.

Fuji doesn’t look surprised or upset about Oishi breaking off the kiss, but he seems unsatisfied with something.

“It would be a good idea to wear your reading glasses next time,” Fuji says, brushing a hand over Oishi’s naked eyes. “I’d like to show you some of the photos I’ve been developing. There are a lot of fine details…”

Oishi nods although he isn’t an idiot. He knows the real reason Fuji wants him to wear glasses. Oishi isn’t annoyed at Fuji’s request, however. He is too busy contemplating which flavor of breath mint to buy for Fuji. Strawberry spearmint sounds right.

As the weeks pass Oishi continues to frequent the darkroom, relishing in those five-minute periods of fake fantasy kisses. They are addicting like a drug. A placebo pill he believes is helping to heal the pain of watching his former doubles partner flaunt his relationship so openly. Oishi wonders if love like that exists for people like him or if he will have to remain behind closed doors, dimmed lights, and fake kisses forever.


	2. Amer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amer means bitter

At the start of April Oishi leaves Seigaku to enroll at Igaku, a rigorous High School meant to prepare him for a future in medicine. Upon arriving, Oishi is naively eager, but quickly recognizes the difference in atmosphere between Seigaku and a top tier school like Igaku. Igaku students are cutthroat and competitive, mirror opposites of their Seigaku counterparts.

In the throes of his new school life, Oishi loses touch with his former Seigaku classmates. One week quickly turns to three, and before long it’s only one talkative redhead who ever texts him.

He never texts back.

After one of his nightly cram classes, Oishi checks his phone to find several unread messages from Eiji and one unread message from…Fuji? That can’t be right. He and Fuji haven’t spoken since he started at Igaku, and they were hardly close friends before that.

_“Meet me at Café Amer tonight after your cram class.”  --Fuji_

It’s a quarter till 9; Fuji’s probably not asking him out for a coffee.

The memory of their escapades in the Seigaku photography room run through his mind. Schoolwork is nearly about to swallow him, and he’s only just beginning to process his feelings for Eiji. He doesn’t have the energy or mindspace to deal with this right now.

But his legs are of a different opinion, and seem to make their way to the café all on their own.

He stands at the café’s entrance a full minute or two, inhaling and exhaling deeply. An attempt to calm the storm of Thoughts twisting through the corridors of his brain.

_We aren’t real friends._

_I’m just a convenient replacement for someone else._

 

Oishi resolutely pushes ahead, shoving away The Thoughts and door blocking his path.

Warm, earthy notes of coffee flood to his nose, and his hands tremble in slight anticipation for his nightly caffeine fix. The café, typically alive with business, is nearly vacant at this hour. No lines and pure silence except for the occasional tinkering of a coffee mug or two.

To his right, he spots Fuji sipping coffee at an isolated window booth. The tension in his shoulders relaxes, Oishi doesn’t know what he was expecting. It looks like Fuji does just want to talk.  

After ordering his own coffee, Oishi takes a seat across from his former teammate. A man with messily overgrown bangs, and a body crouched over like a hibernating turtle stares at him from the outside. Recognizing the emblazoning on the school uniform, he realizes it is his own reflection. Just when did Oishi Shuichirou become so…empty?

“You like coffee right?” Fuji exudes his typical mask of fake cheerfulness.

Oishi nods, taking a sip from his mug. A taste for coffee is almost required to withstand Igaku’s rigid exterior. He puckers his lips at its overt acerbity and remembers why he always waits until he’s back home to satisfy his caffeine craving.

“The coffee here numbs the senses a bit, doesn’t it?” Fuji says, plastic smile slightly faltering as he looks pensively into his mug, “ _He_ used to never drink it. But, _he_ still accompanied me to these types of places anyway. I don’t understand why. Too kind to say no, I guess.”

Their former captain only drank tea, never coffee. Oishi imagines Fuji taking him out to a quaint local coffee shop, maybe even venturing out to this very café, and the stoic man asking the barista which varieties of green tea they had in stock.

“Fuji, I’m sure he really did enjoy it,” Oishi tries.  Although it’s fairly useless, Fuji’s more bitter than the coffee.

 _Long distance is hard_ , Oishi’s subconscious moans, _even if Eiji felt the same, things never could have worked out between us_.

Oishi reigns himself back in before The Thoughts sweep him away.  

_Why does everything still remind me of Eiji?_

 

Fuji apologetically shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you here to discuss that. Actually I wanted to check in and see how you were. You haven’t visited Seigaku once since you started at that new school, and it’s been almost 3 weeks. No calls, texts, social media posts; everyone is worried about you.”

Now it makes sense why Fuji asked him out. Since Oishi never had the guts to admit why he started avoiding the redhead in the first place, Eiji must be complaining constantly to Fuji about Oishi not answering his calls.

The Thoughts brew up again, writhing and whirling.

_Fuji doesn’t want to be here. Eiji asked him to do this._

 

“I’ve been busy,” Oishi states, firmly putting a damper on The Thoughts for now. He will call Eiji back when he’s ready.

“Things sound... difficult,” Fuji says, not letting on exactly to which things he is talking about. “I hear the load at Igaku is pretty intense. Seigaku must look like a Kindergarten in comparison.”

Oishi can’t tell Fuji that he hasn’t made one real friend since coming to Igaku. He can’t say that it feels like everyone views each other as opponents to be bested, and even teachers have not-so secret competitions to see who can weed out the most students from their classes.

He can’t say any of this, it would only cause Fuji unnecessary apprehension. So, he forces a smile and says, “Igaku? It’s great! But…it doesn’t have a tennis team. I do miss parts of Seigaku sometimes.”

“So, you don’t play at all anymore?”  

Oishi shakes his head. Without Eiji tennis feels rather lackluster, as if missing some key ingredient.  

“Perhaps you and I could play together sometime.” Fuji’s eyes flick open for a second, giving Oishi a glimpse of their past spark and intensity. For a fleeting moment, the old Fuji is back.  

“I’d like that. But, would you mind not telling Eiji about this?” Oishi asks, “I don’t want him to think we’re going behind his back or something.” Even if his former doubles partner can’t return his feelings, hurting him is the last thing he wants to do.

“Eiji won’t hear a peep from me,” Fuji says. Then, after a moment’s pause adds, “Give yourself time, tennis holds a lot of …memories for me too, but I’m not about to let my skills slip through the cracks because of them.”

They make plans to meet up at the same time next week at some street courts near Igaku. Oishi argues that Fuji doesn’t have to come all that way just to play tennis with him, but Fuji insists that he _wants_ to. Oishi wants to believe he’s telling the truth.

 

Night tennis is not Oishi’s forte, but Fuji certainly makes gliding along the dimly lit courts look effortless. After succumbing to defeat for what feels like the millionth time, Oishi jokes that he’s more of a doubles guy.

Fuji responds by prancing past the nets over to Oishi’s side,  spinning around so his backside is facing Oishi. With his freehand he pats his butt, playfully humming, _“_ I hope you haven’t forgotten the Australian formation. _”_

Oishi erupts into a fit of laughter, gripping at his sides as they start to ache and throb. It’s not that funny, but it just feels so _good_ to laugh. He tries to remember the last time he laughed like this and realizes it was back when he was playing doubles with Eiji. Eiji used to make him crack a smile almost every second they were together.

 

_We might not ever play doubles again_

The Thought blows past, hissing and cackling.

Tears prick the back of his eyes and soon begin trickling down his face in a steady stream.

Tonight the sky is clear, but Oishi’s storm is ever present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! 
> 
> ~A note on the name of Oishi’s school~
> 
> [Igaku (医学) means medicine/study of medicine] And yes, I realize it isn't a super great name choice. I was going to change it, but I guess I'm too lazy/ it kind of grew on me? 
> 
> The full name of Seigaku (青学) is Seishun Gakuen(青春学園 youth academy).  
> So, the full name of Oishi’s school could be (Igaku Gakuen 医学学園 medical academy). But wow, having those two 学 right next to each other is a mouthful to say, right? 
> 
> But, if we shorten it by taking, I (医) from Igaku (医学) and Gaku (学) from Gakuen (学園) we are left with… Igaku 医学. Which is already a word, and would be totally confusing in a real conversation...


	3. Linked

They continue to meet up every week, mainly to play tennis, but sometimes it’s just to sit and talk. Oishi talks Fuji out of letting the cactus their former captain gave him die the slow painful death of drowning, insisting the cactus is not at fault. And, when he catches Fuji repeatedly ignoring that certain person’s call he doesn’t comment. Instead, he jumps in with a silly story about the time his anatomy teacher mixed up the metacarpals and metatarsals. Fuji is thankful for the distraction.

In turn, despite his closeness with Eiji, Fuji never once pressures Oishi to contact him. But, when Oishi decides he’s finally ready to do so, Fuji silently sits next to him. Squeezing his shoulder, Fuji tells him he’s brave, and Oishi knows the sentiment is genuine. 

Spring turns to summer, and Oishi’s heart and mind are the most content they’ve been in a long while. There are still dreary days, but it seems for the most part, the storm of Thoughts has subsided. 

 

Oishi is delighted, but a bit miffed, when Fuji calls asking if Oishi will accompany him to the opening of a new planetarium in town. He hadn’t expected the other boy to remember his interest in astronomy, as he only mentioned it once. They agree to meet up at the planetarium instead of the tennis courts for the following week.

When Oishi arrives, Fuji is already waiting dressed in a loose lavender button down and slacks.  At first, Oishi is self conscious that he’s still wearing his school uniform. That is until he realizes Fuji is the only person who bothered to dress up for the event.

_ Goodness sakes, he’s even wearing cuff links…  _ Oishi sighs. Fuji has always been more into fashion than the others... but cuff links?  _ What does he think we’re doing? Going on a date or someth-- _

And it occurs to Oishi he may, in fact, be on a date.  

Oishi’s mom always told him it’s impolite to stare at someone for longer than 3 seconds. So, trying to keep his attention focused ahead on the queue, Oishi relegates to stealing 3 second glances at Fuji every so often. 

“F-fuji, I didn’t know you liked astronomy!” Oishi blabbers, feeling like a total doofus. 

Fuji smiles, resting a hand lightly on Oishi’s elbow. It sends a funny tingle running up and down his spine. “Actually, I’m more into  _ astrology _ .”

_ Astrology?  _ Oishi mulls over this as they make their way into the planetarium theater. 

After taking their seats, Fuji inches closer to Oishi. Close enough that Oishi can feel Fuji’s hot breath against his cheek and smell his cologne. Something floral with a hint of bitterness. Did Fuji always wear cologne? 

The lights dim and digital illuminations of the solar system are projected above. In a low baritone, the announcer explains the different constellations and alignments of the stars.

“You’re a Taurus, right?” Fuji says, barely audible, into Oishi’s ear.

“I think? I was born at the end of April,” Oishi whispers back. Heartbeat quickening, he doesn’t look Fuji in the eyes, instead looking at the starry projection above them.

“Ah, so you are. Eiji’s a Sagittarius, no wonder. Your signs are absolutely incompatible.”

Not waiting for Oishi’s reply, Fuji continues, “But, you know what sign _ is _ compatible with Taurus, Oishi?” 

Oishi doesn’t know.

“Pisces,” Fuji purrs into Oishi’s neck.

“As in the fish sign?” Oishi laughs a bit too vivaciously, warranting a **shush** from an elderly couple seated in front of them. “You know, I do _ love _ fish,” He grins, finally feeling a bit more comfortable. “I have 8 little ones. Actually, I named them after the planets in our solar system.”

“Ah…you  _ love _ fish, hmm?” Fuji asks, biting his lip, and brushing aside a wisp of Oishi’s well kempt hair.

“Yes, fish are so majestic and brilliant!” Oishi gushes, “People don’t give them enough credit. For instance, mine are all the same breed and look quite similar, but have their own distinctive personalities. It’s easy to tell Mercury apart from Jupiter.” Face lit up like a lamp, Oishi’s voice is teetering once again towards the loud side. 

With a small sigh of defeat Fuji leans back into his own seat. For someone that enjoys reading romance novels, Oishi isn’t the best at picking up on flirtatious subtext.

“He—Tezuka used to say he loved fish too,” Fuji says, and it’s the first time since Tezuka left that Oishi’s heard Fuji refer to him by name. “Tezuka loved fish alright, loved to lure them in, watching them flail and flounder for his attention. And then, no warning, just-- _woosh._ ” Fuji pretends to toss something out to the rows in front of them. “He’d toss them right back in. Didn’t even say goodbye.“

In all his years of knowing Tezuka, he’s never seen him aimlessly flinging fish back in the water. Tezuka was always careful, treating everything, even the ocean’s most minute creatures, with respect and dignity. Besides, since when did Fuji take such an interest in fish?

Seeing the quizzical look on Oishi’s face, Fuji decides to put an end to the game Oishi doesn’t even know he’s playing. “Oishi, I’m a Pisces,” he finally sighs, patting Oishi’s hand sympathetically, “You really don’t know much about astrology do you?”

Realizing the implications of his previous words, Oishi’s face flushes a vibrant crimson. “Fuji! You-“

“I’m sorry. I have a bad habit of teasing people that I like. Maybe too much to the point that they start hating me.”

“Fuji…”

The auditorium lights come on, and the rest of the audience starts filing out of the theater. Fuji remains rooted in his seat, staring at the now empty ‘sky.’ 

Still looking at the ceiling, Fuji asks, “Do you ever wish you could turn back time? I feel like I wasted so much energy pursuing this one thing, that I missed out on this other important thing right in front of my nose.”

Oishi thinks about it. He spent so much time during middle school immersed in his friendship with Eiji. Yet, despite the fact that he and Eiji might not be as close as they once were, he doesn’t regret a second of it. Remembering that time together as the Golden Pair, laughing at ridiculous inside jokes that would make zero sense to anyone else, are still some of his most precious memories.

So he answers, “No, I don’t want to turn back time.”

“I guess…Sometimes I think if we weren’t so preoccupied with those other things, you and I could have made wonderful friends…” Fuji trails off, adding quietly, “Maybe something more…” Blue eyes stare at Oishi intently, waiting for a response.

Oishi swallows thickly, unsure of what to say. By the sound of things, Fuji’s still hurting over Tezuka. And Oishi knows he’s not really over Eiji, maybe will never quite be over him. What he does know is spending time with Fuji makes his days a little brighter, giving him a breath of fresh air, and much needed break from Igaku’s high-pressure environment. Now might not be the best time for either of them to start something, but Oishi doesn’t want to let go of  **_this_ ** feeling, whatever it is. 

He’s going to pursue it. 

“Fuji, do you want to go out to look at some real stars next weekend? We could take a train outside the city where there’s not as much light pollution and--“

Fuji shakes his head, moving to get up out of his seat. Oishi feels an unexpected pang in his stomach.  

“If we go outside the city my sister will insist on being our chaperone,” Fuji explains, extending a hand for Oishi to grab onto as he stands up. Stomach knots untangle themselves and relief washes over Oishi.

“It would be…inconvenient,” Fuji continues, lacing his fingers with Oishi’s as they walk side by side out of the Planetarium.  “I was thinking more along the lines of the aquarium. You like fish, right?”

“Yes, Fuji I love fish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, look at you reading all the way through!!! Thank you! Have a virtual high-five!


End file.
